


Show me where my armour ends

by kimabutch (CWoodP)



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Guilt, Late Night Conversations, Missing Scene, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-02-23 11:36:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23810947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CWoodP/pseuds/kimabutch
Summary: Set during RQG 131: Building Friendships. Azu and Cel have a late-night talk over tea.
Relationships: Azu & Celiquillithon "Cel" Sidebottom, Celiquillithon "Cel" Sidebottom & Jasper
Comments: 16
Kudos: 30
Collections: Rusty Quill Gaming Exchange 2020





	Show me where my armour ends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dicaeopolis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dicaeopolis/gifts).



> Title is from "Pluto" by Sleeping at Last (yes, I did look at your character playlists, I hope that isn't weird. They're very good.)

It’s strange how exhaustion can be comforting, Azu thinks as she leans back in an old armchair shoved to one side of Cel’s workshop. It’s been a long day building barricades at the edge of Cel’s village, and Azu’s muscles are properly tired for the first time since their imprisonment — satisfying proof that she’s been actually doing something. Helping people. Zolf’s off in the next room, rereading a Campbell, and Hamid’s already gone to bed, but Azu closes her eyes and lets herself sink further into the worn cushions, listening to Cel bustle around their equipment purposefully.

They’re working on some kind of alchemical trap, in case of attack. Cel’s described it a few times, and while Azu’s not able to follow their explanations exactly, it seems like whatever they’re doing isn’t as explosive as some of their other projects. Without the threat of death, Azu’s found that the bubbling of beakers and Cel’s muttering and occasional shout of surprise are a strangely soothing backdrop to her dozing. 

Footsteps break her half-sleep and Azu cracks an eye open to see Jasper holding a teapot, with a couple of teacups tucked under his arm. He puts them down on a rare free crate and, apparently not noticing Azu, says something in Japanese to Cel — who, not having seen him walk in, turns around in surprise, nearly dropping the test tube in their hand. Jasper smiles widely and says something in a teasing voice, to which Cel responds by stepping towards Jasper and swiping at him with a hand in the shape of a claw, as if about to transform into some beast. He dodges easily, laughing, and then Cel’s laughing too, reaching forward and ruffling his hair. 

Jasper pours two cups of tea and both of them drink, leaning on crates and talking. Azu can’t understand the language, but there’s an easy familiarity to their banter and body language, to this little ritual that Azu imagines they’ve done hundreds of times. She finds her mind drifting to her first day in Damascus, walking their way into town after jumping from the carriage — to the image of Grizzop and Sasha walking ahead of her, talking to each other. She can’t remember what they were saying, only their bursts of laughter, the ease with which they interacted, and the love that filled her heart at Sasha’s trust and Grizzop’s tenderness. 

Azu’s eyes are blurred with tears by the time that Jasper sets his cup back down on the crate. He gives Cel a quick side-hug, mutters something vaguely reproachful to them, and, to Azu’s surprise, gestures subtly in her direction. Cel turns to Azu in shock as Jasper bustles out of the room. They stutter a few words in Japanese before remembering and switching languages. 

“I’m sorry,” Cel says nervously, “I didn’t think you were still there. Well, I never saw you leave so I guess I just forgot that you were there, you know how it is when you’re working on — can I get you some tea?”

Azu takes a moment to collect herself and blink back tears. “I would like that,” she says finally. She starts to get up from the armchair but Cel waves her back. They bring the teapot and cups over. With one awkward movement, Cel clears a crate covered in faintly buzzing metal devices, pulling it up towards Azu’s chair and sitting on it. They refill both cups and hand one to Azu. The tea’s delicious, unlike anything Azu had before coming to Japan, and still relatively warm for having been sat out for a while. 

“You are very close with him,” Azu says. 

Cel finishes the tea that they’ve been downing quickly in an effort not to make eye contact. “With Jasper? He’s a good little buddy. Even if he’s a smart aleck,” they say fondly. “He’ll be okay when I leave I think. I hope. It’s just for a bit.”

“I’m sorry,” Azu says, unable to bring herself to make promises. “I know what it is like to leave behind someone you care about.”

“It’s — it’s okay, really, it’s for the best. It’s just that, I mean, it’s just been the two of us for a long time? I mean, like, the people are great — they’ve been so good to me, they’re really sweet — but Jasper and I, we’ve been taking care of each other for a while, you know?”

Azu thinks of Hamid — of his small arms wrapped tightly around her waist, of their promise to stick together. “I do,” she says.

“And if I don’t come back,” Cel says, “I mean, I guess I wouldn’t know if I’m dead, but — well, he’d get on without me, I’ve taught him a lot, but…” They trail off, their usual fountain of words turned off. 

“We will try our best to get you back to him,” Azu says, the closest thing to an oath she can still honestly make. “We do not want to lose any more people, either.” 

Cel gives a small, sad smile, so unlike their usual manic grin that Azu wonders how many people they lost before ending up in this village. “Well, I’ve seen the way you lift that wood for the barricades!” Cel says, a little forced. “If you say I’m safe, I’ll come back safe as a — as a spring chicken? Is that the saying?” They give a strained laugh. 

Azu can only barely make herself smile, taking the last sip of her tea and setting the cup down. Cel scrunches up their eyebrows at her lack of response. “I don’t know what y’all have been through,” they say carefully. “And I don’t want to pry, y’know, people have accused me of being too curious, but would you like a hug?”

Azu’s surprised but she nods, and suddenly Cel’s up from their crate, sitting on the recliner’s arm and putting their arms around her. It’s awkward but warm, and Azu leans in towards them instinctively. It’s been a while since she’s been hugged by anyone big enough to hold her. 

“I know that you want to protect your own little buddies,” Cel says quietly, still hugging her, “but you gotta also look out for yourself, too. I don’t want to lose a new friend.” 

Cel’s words should be soothing, but they sting like a snake bite. Azu wants to shout that she doesn’t deserve to look out for herself, not when she’s the reason that Sasha and Grizzop — Azu’s screams come out as sobs, and soon her whole body is heaving uncontrollably. Cel holds fast onto her, their lanky arms now armour against her guilt.

“Sorry — I, I didn’t —” Azu tries to say, gasping for breath, but Cel cuts her off.

“It’s okay, really,” Cel says, rocking her slightly. “I’ve been there. Just gotta have a little cry, you know? It’s gotta come out somehow.” Azu isn’t sure whether Cel can feel her nod when her whole body’s shaking, but they seem to understand. “That’s it. You can’t be strong for them all the time. You gotta be strong for yourself. Or wait, cry for yourself. Hm. Maybe —” Cel’s chatter washes over her, calming her even as she loses track of its meaning. By the time her breathing has steadied, Azu realizes that Cel’s gone unusually quiet, though their arms remain tight around her. 

“Thank you,” Azu says finally, turning so she can see Cel’s face. “You are a good friend. To me and to Jasper.” 

“Aw, shucks,” Cel says. “Thank you. And sorry again about not remembering you sitting there. It’s just, there was this formula that I thought I’d gotten _just_ right but then I remembered that actually it needed to be —”

“It’s really okay,” Azu says, a genuine smile on her lips. “You should get back to your work. I would like to stay here for a while, if that’s okay.” 

“Oh! Oh yes, I don’t mind at all,” Cel says, jumping up from the side of the chair. “And I will entreat — _endeavour_ — not to forget you this time. Would you like to keep the tea? I think there’s a little left in the pot.” 

“That would be nice,” Azu says, and Cel bounds off back to their experiments. After a moment, the soothing sounds of science resume. 

Azu sits back in the chair and, her heart as tired as her body, she rests. 


End file.
